Escaping Our Inner Egypt

Illustration: Courtesy David Rohl

Parashat Acharei Mot, Leviticus 16:1–18:30

Daniel Nessim, Kehillath Tsion, Vancouver, BC

 Acharei Mot. What a way to start a parasha—with the words Acharei Mot: “After the death!” This phrase refers to the death of Aaron’s two sons, Nadab and Abihu, who had offered “strange fire” before the Lord. At the moment they dared to do so, the result was fire coming out from before the Tabernacle and consuming them.

Why now, later, is this parasha linked to that earlier event? Why is the warning to be careful in how we approach Hashem repeated here? Perhaps it is because the instructions of this parasha do indeed flow out of the lesson Israel learned through Nadav and Abihu’s fate. As Moses had explained to Aaron after they died, “This is what Adonai said: ‘Through those who are near me I will be consecrated, and before all the people I will be glorified’” (Lev 10:3 CJB).

Acharei Mot covers three subjects: The sin offerings of Yom Kippur; sacrifice to idols; and sexual defilement. Is this why our parasha begins with such a frightening reminder of God’s fearsomeness?

Seemingly in the wrong place in Leviticus, Aaron is given instructions regarding Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. The awesomeness of Hashem is front and center as he warns Aaron that the same thing that happened to his two sons would happen to him if he entered the holy place behind the curtain where the ark was. The reason? The Lord says, “I appear in the cloud over the ark-cover” (Lev 16:2). It is not because the place was holy in and of itself. It is not even because the ark was holy or had something holy inside of it. It is because Hashem appeared in the cloud above it. Perhaps in the land of Egypt, regaled by stories of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob’s encounters with God, Israel had lost its fear of him. But while he was redeeming them and taking them to be his own, he was not to be disrespected.  

In Egypt, Hashem had displayed his mighty power over all the gods of Egypt. Both Pharaoh and his people and the people of Israel had seen in increasing measure the futility of their idolatry before the God of Israel. As his people, all their devotion belonged to him. Every sacrifice of oxen, goats, and lambs was to be offered at the sanctuary, where the priest could splash the blood on the altar and offer the fat up to the Lord. They were told in graphic terms that they would no longer “offer sacrifices to the goat-demons, before whom they prostitute themselves!” (Lev 17:7). It might seem shocking, but it is clear that the Israelites, both before and after their redemption from Egypt, were actively engaged in blatant idolatry. But they should have known better, for as they had already been told at the Mountain of God in the wilderness. “I, Adonai your God, am a jealous God” (Exod 20:5).

It is directly following this that a series of instructions concerning sexual indiscretions, to put it mildly, are given. Once again, Israel is being warned to avoid the activities that they had been engaged in during their enslavement to the Egyptians. Once again, the presumption was that these were practices they needed to discard because of who God is. Their God. Now is it becoming more apparent why the Lord acted so drastically and dramatically in consuming Nadab and Abihu with fire from the altar? In the midst of all the instructions there is the line “You are not to let any of your children be sacrificed to Molekh, thereby profaning the name of your God; I am Adonai” (Lev 18:21). Today the very concept is appalling to us, but to them it was a sacrifice of individual infants for the greater good.

Perhaps the judgment on Nadab and Abihu was for at least some of Israel a stern enough warning that they turned away from the ghastly practices of Egypt. I’m not saying this was the actual reason why they died. Our rabbis have voluminous and insightful commentary on that. But was Hashem’s action against Nadab and Abihu so drastic after all, when its enduring effect was so positive for Kol Yisrael, all Israel?

Getting back to the laws and rules regarding pagan sacrifice and sexual indiscretions, when we think about what they imply our ancestors were doing, a horrific image of their behavior emerges. But perhaps we are being disingenuous in being appalled without examining ourselves. I’ll leave it to you to consider where our society and our own lives today compare to the image of Israel in our parasha, Acharei Mot.

Israel had a problem. They had been brought out of Egypt, but somehow Egypt was still within them. You could say it was easier to take us out of Egypt than to take Egypt out of us. This is where Hashem says to Israel, “You are not to engage in the activities found in the land of Egypt,” and, “You are to observe my laws and rulings; if a person does them, he will have life through them. I am Adonai” (Lev 18:3, 5). Again he says, “Keep my charge. I am Adonai”  (Lev 18:30).

I really doubt that any of us are offering sacrifices to goat demons or sacrificing our offspring to Molekh today, but one of the challenges of this parasha to us is, “am I keeping Adonai’s charge?” Have I truly left Egypt behind in my spiritual journey or have I, in some respects, brought Egypt into the wilderness with me? As we count the Omer at this time, we pray Master of the universe, you commanded us through Moses your servant to count the Omer, in order to purify us from our evil and uncleanness. May that be true now, as we reflect and truly leave Egypt behind us.

 All Scripture references are from Complete Jewish Bible (CJB).

Russ Resnik